Average Jane

Subclinically Fucked Up

I went to the gym this morning. I went because I can’t go tonight. I went because I can no longer afford not to go.

I got on the scale. Saw a number I haven’t seen in 2 years. Got off the scale. Went downstairs to the weight room feeling flushed. I did the first set of rows. Then the first set pushups. Big girl pushups. Strong pushups. Rest. Second set of each. Rest. Third set. I stood up.

I started thinking about that scale again. And all the hard work I’ve put into myself over the last 3 years. I thought about all the blood sweat and tears I put into myself and my body.

Then I started thinking about my knee. And the pain. The pain that cripples me. The pain that has kept me from running… biking… doing anything that makes me feel good.

Then I started thinking about the cookie I finally allowed myself to eat the other day. And the beer I drank the other night. The margarita. The peanut butter I ate out of the jar with a spoon. Every night. Every afternoon. The rice I eat cold before I go to bed because I don’t want to wait to heat it. The chocolate I eat at work because I’m stressed and need a reason to leave my desk. The ice cream I eat even though I don’t want to because I’m sick of saying “no” to people and them asking “why?”.

And then I cried at the gym. I cried at the gym at 7:30am. I made it out of the weight room and into the locker room before fully breaking down, thank goodness. No one needs to know.

I was diagnosed with a sub clinical eating disorder about a year ago. Basic definition: I am fucked up about food and my body — like most (literally most) women. I stopped trusting my nutritionist. I think she lies. I stopped doing cardio. I can’t do any cardio because my knee, my foot, my back… And if I can’t do cardio, and I can’t stop eating, and all the control is gone, and the scale continues tipping…

And what if I cannot mentally and emotionally handle that? What if I cannot handle that?

So today I’ll call my nutritionist. Then my therapist. Then my mom. Maybe in that order. Maybe not. I wonder which will be most comforting. I wonder which will have the answer. I wonder which one can fix me.


Trackbacks & Pingbacks


  1. * Mrs. Emily says:

    Only you have the answer. Most (literally most) doctors diagnose and prescribe drugs.

    | Reply Posted 9 years, 11 months ago
  2. * stopbouncing says:

    I hope you make it though this bump in the road.
    After the holidays, the “merriment” really starting taking effect. Yes, crying helped, so did realizing what my triggers were and removing them.

    Toss the rice right away. Mix in some cat litter for good measure. (From a former “it has a lid on it so even if it’s in the trash, it’s still good”)

    | Reply Posted 9 years, 11 months ago
  3. * J says:

    No, you need to see a doctor. They can do more than just prescribe drugs. My sister was diagnosed almost a year ago with anorexia nervosa, had to a clinic, and everything. She’s much better now, but still struggles and probably will for the rest of her life. She’s done significant damage to her heart and the rest of her body. It’s a difficult thing for a person and her family to go through — so, really, nip this in the bud and make sure you see the right people…

    | Reply Posted 9 years, 11 months ago
  4. * Jessica:) says:

    I’m flying into town today!! I’ll be around until Wednesday. Let me know when I should come out to the ‘burbs to give you your giant hug, k?

    | Reply Posted 9 years, 11 months ago
  5. * freckledk says:

    I think you are being far too hard on yourself…and that is the quickest way for you to go back to the weight you used to be. This body loathing is poisonous, Jane. You are either going to starve yourself or you are going to say “Fuck it.” and go on a binge. Either way, you’ll be hurting yourself.

    If you can’t do running, walking, etc…go swimming or to water aerobics. If you have an ice cream, allow yourself to enjoy it. Make a note to double up on the veggies and fruits tomorrow. You have to love your body in order for it to love you back. Otherwise, it’s going to fuck you over every time.

    You don’t have to go balls out 100% of the time. Just try to make healthful choices, and forgive yourself the occasional slip.

    | Reply Posted 9 years, 11 months ago
  6. Good luck. I hate the scale, it really just does a number on a person mentally. Why can’t we all just be happy without being at that magic number. I think it’d make life a whole lot easier.

    | Reply Posted 9 years, 11 months ago

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